


Not Exactly Empty Handed

by madsthenerdygirl



Category: The Mummy (1999)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 15:29:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6382009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/pseuds/madsthenerdygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the trip back to Cairo, they finally get a moment alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Exactly Empty Handed

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted on fanfiction.net in 2014 and is now being crossposted here along with the rest of my work. I shipped these guys before I even knew what shipping was, so it was inevitable that I write smut about them.

They took a boat back to Cairo, a reverse version of the transportation they'd originally planned on taking to Hamunaptra when this whole thing started. After so many days in the desert, Rick was eager to wash the grime away. The water pressure wasn't the best but it still felt amazing compared to what they'd just been through, massaging his sore muscles and renewing his energy.

After making sure Jonathan was safely tucked away somewhere he wouldn't blab about their treasure (finding that on the back of the camel had been an adventure), Rick headed for Evie's room. His skin still felt warm from where she'd pressed against him on the ride through the desert, her head tucked under his chin and her arm around his chest. She'd fallen asleep after a while, utterly exhausted like the rest of them, and he'd kept an arm firmly around her to stop her from falling. She'd felt soft and warm against him, curled up so contently, that he almost hadn't wanted to get down.

Unfortunately, they hadn't had a second alone during that entire time. Jonathan, although not exactly protesting their relationship, hadn't kept his eye off of them. Or, specifically, Rick. Rick wasn't expecting a  _you hurt her I hurt you_  speech or any kind of protest, but he knew that Jonathan was watching him. It was kind of nice to see the man actually exhibiting some brotherly traits, but Rick had no intention of hurting Evie.

If anything, he was a little worried he might be the one in danger of getting hurt. He kept expecting Evelyn to walk up to him and tell him that she'd made a mistake, this was all wrong; she didn't want a dirty scoundrel like him.

Rick knocked on her door, heart hammering.

"Who is it?"

"It's me," Rick called.

Evelyn swung the door open. He thought her smile was radiant—sweet and guileless and genuine. He found himself smiling back, helpless. She had cleaned up as well and was wearing a white nightgown rather similar to the one she'd been sporting when he'd dumped her into the river. Her hair curled loose and damp about her shoulders, framing her face. He remembered when she'd first smiled at him like that, when they'd been racing their camels towards the lost city. He'd smiled back, probably looking like a complete idiot, and had realized with a stab to his gut that he was lost on her. Lost on this crazy, clumsy, intelligent, witty, utterly incomprehensible librarian.

"Mind if I come in?"

She stepped back to let him enter, closing and latching the door behind him. He couldn't blame her for being cautious.

And now it was just the two of them, alone in the room.

With a bed nearby.

His pulse started racing.

"So," he said.

"So," Evelyn replied.

This was going well. He'd always been good when it came to acting—to knowing what to do and doing it. But when it came to words, what he wanted to say became jammed in his throat, clogging his mind and he eventually blurted out something stupid.

"Where's Jonathan?" Evie asked.

"Don't worry, he won't be telling the whole ship about the treasure," he said, taking a small step closer to her. "What are you going to do with it once we get back to Cairo?"

"Well, things will be in shambles as they try to find a new curator," She said. "I was thinking I could apply for the position. I'm the only one who can catalogue the library and someone has to start dating the antiquities we're bringing back with us."

"Sounds like a lot of work," he noted, stepping even closer. Her eyes were shining in the lamplight, twinkling like stars. They were entrancing.

"Oh, it is, but it's rather exciting," she said, that tinge of glee creeping into her tone, as it always did when she was talking about history and Egyptology.

"Don't suppose there'll be much for an adventurer to do."

She seemed to catch what he was driving at, and her face grew thoughtful. "Well, maybe not at first," she said, "But I'll want to get back into the field soon. I'll need someone to help me with that—never know when a mummy will come back to life or some thieves might try to take the artifacts. I'll need a companion."

"Companion?" He asked. Her face was tipped upwards, contemplating, their bodies scant inches apart. He reached up, his hand brushing at her upper arm, cradling the smooth, warm skin.

"Well, is there another word you'd prefer?" She asked, her voice low and breathless. Her eyes were darker now, sweeping over him. Her gaze made his blood run hot.

"How about lover?" He offered.

He'd had to stop himself from saying  _husband_.

"That'll do for now," Evie replied.

He wanted to ask her what she meant; if he were to ask her, would she say yes, would she want him for that long, for forever, take his name and let him follow her to the ends of the earth.

But she was kissing him, closing the distance and letting him taste her soft lips again, and he thought maybe those questions could wait. He felt her hands come up and rest at his collarbone, her fingers exploring the skin as she trailed them slowly upwards, eventually bringing them around to spear into his hair and cup his head, holding him in place. He took it as permission and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her completely against him. She felt like softness and heat, her curves and angles fitting surprisingly well against his. He ran his fingers over the skin of her shoulders and back, feeling how supple it was, how the goosebumps rose in response to his touch. One or both of them opened their mouths and then he could taste her, let the warmth of her mouth overwhelm him, make her shiver with the way their tongues twisted and danced around each other. Her fingertips pressed gently into his scalp, creating small circles in what seemed to be an almost subconscious gesture, and he tightened his grip on her.

He never wanted to let her go.

He kissed her as deeply as he could, wishing he could pull her even closer, and he felt her go up onto her tiptoes and wrap her arms around his neck for balance. He slid an arm down and swept her legs out from under her, picking her up bridal style (and really, really tried not to think about the ideas that gave him) and carrying her the few steps across the room to the bed. He let her down as gently as he could, forcing them to break the kiss in the process.

Evie's chest was heaving as she sucked in air, her lips wet and red and shining. Her eyes were shining too, shining up at him, and her cheeks were adorably flushed. She was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

She reached for him and he caught her wrist in his hand, marveling at how light and thin it was. "Are you sure about this?" He asked. He would never hurt her—would hate himself if he hurt her—but there was also the fact that he was, well, who he was, an orphan with nothing to his name, and she was young and bright and determined and everything he could never hope to deserve.

Evelyn smiled up at him, her hands tugging at his shirt until he had no choice but to climb onto the bed, hovering over her (he kicked his boots off first, though—he knew enough not to ruin the sheets with mud).

"Why, Mr. O'Connell," she said, her voice that sultry teasing tone that always managed to do things to him. "Are you nervous?"

"I don't want you regretting anything."

Her smile never faded. "I don't see any reason why I should," she replied.

"Evie, do you even know what—"

"I am well aware of what this entails." She slid her hands up to cup his face, her touch firm and soothing. "I know what I'm asking, Rick."

His heart skipped a beat as he started down at her. She looked so young and delicate, but there was steel lurking just under that gentle façade; a fire that blazed out of her eyes, engulfing him. He was certain that it would take at least a month before he'd get up the courage to actually ask her, but he knew right then that he was going to find a way to make Evelyn Carnahan his wife.

When Evie tugged on him again, he didn't resist. He let her guide him downward, let their mouths slide together, kissing deeply. He half wanted to crawl inside of her, to envelop himself in her warmth and never come out.

He was also beginning to think that he might have underestimated Evie's previous experience. Either that or she was an incredibly fast learner, because damn if it wasn't the best kiss he'd ever had. She was playful and took no prisoners, and before he realized it he'd lowered himself until he was between her spread legs, his elbows bracketing her head and keeping their chests barely an inch apart. He could feel the heat emanating from her core, and he felt himself growing hard. He worried that might startle or alarm her, and tried to lift himself away from her hips before the situation became obvious enough for her to notice. But Evie gripped fiercely at his shoulders, her grip surprisingly strong, and arched her back so their lower bodies ground against each other. He swallowed the surprised little mewl she gave, ready for her to pull back and comment, but she just did it again, giving a little sigh against his lips that could only be called content.

She was never going to stop surprising him, was she?

They broke apart for air and he saw the mischief in her eyes and the smile teasing the corners of her mouth. Little minx. He lowered his head, dodging her lips as she sought him out again, latching onto her erratic pulse and sucking gently. Evie made a surprised noise in the back of her throat and speared her fingers through his hair again, making those soft mewling noises as he slowly worked his way down her neck. She seemed so pleasantly surprised by his actions, her pulse jumping underneath his lips. He'd never had a girl be so responsive before, and it was making him hard enough to drive nails. His pants were painfully tight, and the continued rolling of Evie's hips was helping none.

He reached the edge of her nightgown, the flimsy lace managing to create an effective barrier to the skin he wanted to reach. He hooked two fingers in the thin straps to pull it down, but Evie seized his wrists and shook her head.

He looked up, worried he'd gone too far, that she'd changed her mind, but she only arched an eyebrow at him.

"You don't get to look until I do," she informed him. Her hands reached up and deftly began to undo his buttons, and he found himself grinning at her. He helped her get him out of his shirt and pants, making her laugh when his legs got caught and he had to twist out of them. She ran her hands along his chest, her nails scraping lightly, as if reveling in the wide expanse of skin she could now touch. He wasn't going to lie—it was quite an ego boost.

"Your turn," he told her, successfully hooking his fingers in the straps of her gown and sliding them down her arms. Inch by inch, pale skin was bared to his gaze, and he drank in the sight. He'd known for a long time that she was beautiful—ripe and luscious and tempting. When they'd clambered out of the river after their little swim, her nightgown had clung to her, revealing her curves, and when she'd had her little makeover she'd only become more stunning despite the added layers. His imagination had run wild.

Now there was nothing left for him to wonder about; it was all there before him, mouth-watering and only for him. A hot spike of possessiveness shot through him, and he knew that if he had any say in it, he'd be the only one seeing any of this.

"So beautiful," he whispered, leaning down to taste her. He saw her chest and neck flush in response to his words, and he smiled as he ran his mouth over her skin. Her breasts were round and full and perfect, and he slowly savored every inch of them, kissed and sucked and teased with his teeth until she was panting, her body writhing underneath him. Her nails dug into the back of his shoulders, her head tipped back and her eyes glazed over with pleasure. Every arch of her body in response to him brought their hips together again, and he groaned around her nipple at how goddamn wet she was. He wanted her, wanted her so badly he was practically going cross-eyed, and he was starting to worry that he wouldn't last.

He slowly kissed his way back up, pausing to suck a bit more at her collarbone, turning the skin under his mouth dark and bruised. It was tempting to leave more marks, especially on her gorgeous throat, but those were places that blouses couldn't hide and he didn't think Jonathan would take kindly to seeing love bites on his baby sister. Evie tugged at his hair, pulling him back up so that their faces were even again. He had a bare second to appreciate her wild hair and flushed cheeks before she was kissing him again, fierce and hungry.

He braced himself with one hand next to her head, sliding the other down her stomach as he continued to kiss her. Her tongue stroked the roof of his mouth, her body rocking against his, and he knew it wouldn't take more than a minute once he got inside of her. He had to make this good for her, too. He wanted to make her enjoy this—he wanted to make her scream for him.

He slid his hand between her legs, carefully nudging her thighs farther apart. She was hot and sticky, and a full-body shiver ran through him. He had done that to her. He had made the unflappable Evelyn desperate and wet. He grinned into their kiss, slowly sliding the first finger inside of her. Evie made a noise at the back of her throat again, her body clenching hungrily around him, and he had to recite a list of gun types to keep this whole thing ending before it had properly begun. He searched with his thumb, finding that sweet spot and rubbing it gently, his finger crooking in and out of her. He started slow, wanting her to get used to this, waiting for her to ask for more. After about a minute Evie's kisses became shallower and more frantic, crushing her lips to his over and over again, her hips moving in time with his hand. He slowly added a second finger, speeding up the pace with his thumb, and she full on  _keened_ , peppering kisses frantically over his mouth and jaw, her arms tightening their hold on him. He was definitely going to have some crescent-shaped marks on his back in the morning. The thought made him grin darkly, and he kissed her just under her ear as he sped up even more.

"You okay?" He whispered in her ear.

In response, Evie whacked him. "I'd be a lot better if you'd— _oh—_ stop teasing and get on with— _ah_ —get on with it properly!"

He had to chuckle at that. "Patience is a virtue."

Evie whacked him again, but she was laughing. "Not right now, it's not!"

He kissed her lightly, carefully lining himself up with her. "Breathe," he mouthed against her lips. "It'll hurt a little at first."

She nodded, and he began to slide in. He kissed her gently everywhere he could reach: her eyelids, her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, always returning to her mouth to steal another taste from her lips. He could feel her instinctively clenching around him and waited until he felt her relax, until his kisses and touches made her pliant around him.

"You ready?" He asked.

Evie nodded, bumping her nose against his and wrapping her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles together. It drove him in even deeper, and his eyes slammed shut as he tried not to lose it. He'd been distracted by his need to make sure Evie wasn't hurt, but now he was overwhelmed with the sensation of her around him, of her body enveloping him like hot velvet, tight and soft and utterly perfect. He bit the inside of his cheek as he started moving, trying not to make this end too early. He was finally, finally where he wanted to be, with Evie in every sense of the word, and he wasn't about to ruin it by spilling his load like a fourteen-year-old. He kept moving slowly, trying to gauge her reactions. She was making those gasping, mewling sounds again, pressing her lips to every piece of skin she could reach. Rick wondered if she had any idea how absolutely crazy she was making him. There was no way he was going to last long.

He slid his hand down again, pressing his thumb back to that spot and rubbing slow circles. Evie gasped out an  _oh_  and ground her hips wildly against him, making him see stars. He groaned. This seemed to be met with approval, as Evie's response was to giggle in his ear and do it again.

"Keep that up, sweetheart, this'll be over before you can blink." He sped up his movement with his hand because by God if he was going over the edge then he was dragging her with him.

Her response was to clench around him and give out a throaty moan, tilting her hips so that he was completely inside of her. His eyes slammed shut otherwise they really would have crossed, and Evie let out a hoarse cry. He grit his teeth and drove inside her again, determined to hit that spot that made her cry out. Her nails raked across his back and her throat worked as she screamed again, and he recognized his name.

"That's it," He encouraged her, whispering in her ear even as he kept moving. "So beautiful, Evie, perfect just like this. Do you have any what you do to me, how you drive me crazy?" He felt her shake her head minutely, and his kissed her temple. " _Fuck_  I love you."

Oh, shit.

Two hands seized his face and she kissed him ferociously. Somebody bit someone's lip because he tasted blood but he couldn't care less, the bed was definitely rocking more than the boat and his thrusts were becoming erratic, rushing towards the high, so close to the goal line, praying he was making it good for her, pouring everything into her mouth as they kissed, closer closer and  _holy-_

Everything went white, blinding him as he spilled inside of her, feeling her clench desperately around him. Her scream filled his ears and he clamped his blindly over her mouth again, muffling the sound and letting her pour it into him instead. Everything was heat, generous heat, her body open and arrayed around like like a star-filled night, wondrous and mysterious and the most beautiful thing he'd ever felt. He felt like he was cresting a wave, out of control and swept along for the ride.

As his breathing slowed and his heartbeat returned to normal, he dared to open his eyes and gaze at her. He'd fallen to the side, his bottom half still on top of her and one arm slung over her still-heaving chest, their faces almost touching. He felt his lips curling up into a smile, and saw her smile beatifically back. He reached a hand up to cup her face, his thumb stroking the sweaty skin.

"You okay?" He asked.

Her smile grew and she twisted so that she lay on her side, wrapping herself around him and nuzzling their noses together. "I think I'm a great deal better than that."

"Good." His smile grew. "Good."

Evie's face grew serious for a moment. "Did you mean it?"

He blinked. "Mean what?"

"What you said, about…" Evie swallowed, gesturing between the two of them. "About us?"

Fear slid around in his gut like ice and too much whiskey. The last time she'd asked him a question about his actions towards her (that damn impulsive kiss he hadn't even had a chance to enjoy), he'd screwed up royally. He wasn't about to do that again.

"If I said that I still can't figure you out but you're perfect, then yes. I meant every word."

Evie blinked at him, letting out a small  _oh_. Her hand came up to cover his where he still stroked her cheek.

"Is that all right?" He asked, suddenly afraid. What if he was just a fling to her? What if, now that the high of adventure was over and done with, she wouldn't want a rogue like him?

"No!" She said hastily. "I mean, yes, it's, it's more than all right, actually, I just—well, I've never had anyone say that to me before, I—I don't quite know what—"

"Say you feel the same," he said. He could feel his heart hammering in his throat. "Say you'll let me help you, protect you, whatever you need, Evie, let me love you."

She kissed him, openmouthed and sucking gently on his tongue, before pulling back with shining eyes. "I love you too, Rick O'Connell," she whispered.

His heart swelled, and you couldn't pull the grin off his face with a crowbar. "Good."

He pulled her close and kissed her again, letting his hands roam over her body. Gold was nice, sure, but this—this was his real treasure.


End file.
